


Slow conversations with a knife

by Hopefully_not_a_shitty_ballerina



Series: Depression Drabbles [5]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jenna is a good wife, Past Character Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-21 15:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18704767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopefully_not_a_shitty_ballerina/pseuds/Hopefully_not_a_shitty_ballerina
Summary: Fucking up is the only way towards getting better. |-/ Trigger warning for people who used to self harm, or for people who are considering starting doing it again. Tyler struggles with old demons, and Jenna tries to help.





	Slow conversations with a knife

**Author's Note:**

> I relapsed, and self harmed for the first time in four years, and after a series of panic attacks, and a lot of crying, I wrote this. I identify a lot with the Idea of Tyler Joesph, as I see him, which I think a lot of people do. So, enjoy this, don't enjoy it, whatever.

So, maybe he’s been thinking about it longer than he likes to admit. Tyler turned the knife over in his hands, thinking. How many years has it been? To many to count.  Deftly, he wonders if he still has a counter for how many days’ it’s been on an old phone.

 

“Tyler?”

 

Tyler doesn’t move, just stays fixed on the couch, tightly gripping a knife, poised to harm himself, or maybe poised to throw it away.

 

“hm?”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She’s patient, as always, so ready so willing to be there.

 

“I don’t know yet.” He wonders what she really thinks of him. Of the things he used to do, who he used to be, and how he used to deal, how he _wants_ to deal with his sadness.

 

“Okay….” She shifted on the floor in front of him. She’d come home to find him like this, crouched in the corner of their kitchen, clutching what must have been the sharpest knife they owned.

 

“It’s hard sometimes,” Tyler began, Jenna nodded slowly. He kept his gaze on the knife, as tears filled his eyes. “It’s not something you just…. Stop, ya know?”

 

“I know ty, I know,” Tyler’s grip on the knife tightened.

 

“It’s been years Jen, _years!_ ” He didn’t want to start over again, does it even really count? If it’s only a little blood? Only a small amount of familiar pain that branches up his arm and goes straight to a ball of stress in his chest. “I can’t do it again.”

 

“Starting over isn’t failure Ty,”

 

“It feels like failure! I’ve got the damn knife! Why not just get it over with? Go through the tattoos, make it big and messy, and final, just satisfy that damn voice!”

 

“You don’t want to do that.” Jenna inched forward, as if going to take the knife from Tyler, who had begun to trace gentle lines on his arm with it. No doubt going back over older scars, wondering quietly about them.

 

“But I do, more than I can over fully tell you,” Furiously, Tyler rubbed at his eyes, blurring tears and smearing snot across his face. “I did it every day for so long, stopping was…….. it was so hard, I said I’d never do it again,”

 

“And you haven’t yet Baby, just give me the knife.” Jenna coaxed, Tyler shook his head, angry tears dripped down his face.

 

“I want to do it Jen, but if I do, everything will change.” His grip on the knife loosened, as he thought about it.

 

“Come on Ty, give me the knife, and we can talk about it,”  Tyler looked up at her, tears dripped onto the tile.

 

“You don’t have to put up with this, you don’t have to watch me.” The low light in the kitchen flickered, one of the lightbulbs had gone out, casting an odd hue to Tyler’s face.

 

“I’m not putting up with you, I care about you Ty, for better of for worse, remember?” Tyler nodded numbly, he did remember, of course he remembered. “See? It’s okay, here Ty, let me have the knife…” She reached for the knife, and Tyler let her take it. His hands shook as tears began to stream down his face in earnest.

 

“I’m sorry,” A sob caught in his through as he struggled to calm himself down. Jenna set the knife in the sink before enveloping him in a hug.

 

“It’s okay Ty, you don’t have to be sorry.”  The sat crouched together in the kitchen, until another bulb blew, causing The both of them to Jump. Tyler numb from crying, allowed Jenna to lead him into the bathroom.

 

She washed his face with a warm rag, humming a song that He couldn’t quite remember the tune to all the while.

 

“You don’t have to apologize for this Ty,” Jenna said, a few stray tears leaked from Tyler’s eyes as she spoke, softly as if not to scare him. “I don’t blame you for this. No one does love.” Tyler said nothing, just stared at a fixed spot on the floor, allowing himself to wallow in his emotions.

 

Jenna moved his to their room, pulling his shirt over his head before all but pushing him down on the bed. Tyler crawled under the covers, allowing the feeling of security to wash over him as she crawled into bed next to him. It would be alright, he figured, it had to be.


End file.
